


Truly Your Valentine

by WordMusician



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Bad Wolf (refeference), F/M, Fluff, Valentine's Day Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-14
Updated: 2019-02-14
Packaged: 2019-10-28 04:09:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17780303
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WordMusician/pseuds/WordMusician
Summary: The Doctor and Rose put their own spin on the day.





	Truly Your Valentine

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Valentine's Day! This was inspired by a comment a friend of mine made many, many moons ago.

He curled his upper lip in that way he had when he tasted something particularly vile.  Only he wasn’t tasting anything – nothing she could see at least.

“What is it, Doctor?”

“The TARDIS is playing games again.”

“Whatcha mean?”  The TARDIS had landed them on Earth, her century by the looks of it.  They were reasonably near the Estates as was planned since this was to be a quick visit with mum.  Rose was confused as to what was the trouble.

“Oh, she’s brought us to my least favourite day of the year, that’s all!”  He glared over his shoulder at the unrepentant blue box.  “Not funny.”

Rose looked around trying to find the source of the Doctor’s disapproval.  “Is it Sunday?”

“Sunday?  No, that’s my least favourite day of the _week_ ; no this is my least favourite day of the entire _year_.”  He sighed.  “Oh well, since we’re locked out, we might as well make the best of it.”  He rubbed the back of his neck and then held out his hand to her.

Rose automatically slid her hand into his.  It never got old: this touch, his skin rubbing hers.

They strolled out of the alley and rounded the corner.

Rose pulled up when she saw the florist window display.  “You mean Valentine’s Day is your least favourite day?”  She swallowed her disappointment and reminded herself for the gazillionth time that the Doctor was alien...a 900+ year alien.  He might look like a bloke...she was pretty sure he was a bloke...of course she didn’t have definitive _proof...._

“Is that so surprising, Rose?” he sniffed.  “I mean Valentine – really!”

“And what’s wrong with Valentine’s?  Suddenly developed an aversion to chocolate?  Or is it flowers?”

“What? No, no, no.  Nothing against either one.  Especially chocolate, but if you really want chocolate we need to go to the planet Avanna.  They have this chocolate that – “

“So what’s the problem then?”  Rose dreaded his answer but bravely pushed for it anyway.  “Got an issue with Cupid?”

“Cupid?  No not really, fine fellow actually.  Mind you, he’d be pretty miffed at what you lot have reduced him to: a fat baby cherub!  Really?”  They were walking again.  This time it was the Doctor who pulled up short.  “Rose you know I don’t have any problem with cultures that celebrate affection, love, er... unions.”  Pink stained his cheeks and brightened his ears.  “But I’m sorry; Earth has it all wrong.”

“Wrong!”  How could hearts and flowers and candlelight dinners be wrong?

“He tapped the window beside them.  “See?  Right there: that’s what’s wrong.”

Rose leaned in to follow his pointing finger, trying to espy what he was going on about.  “I don’t get it.”  She turned to look up into his face.  “It just says, _Will You Be My Valentine_?”  Now pink stained her cheeks too.

“Exactly!” he crowed.  “Why – if you supposedly love this person, which is the whole point of the day I believe – would you ask them to die?

“What!”

“Valentine, Rose, Valentine.  It’s an important bit of history that has been totally ignored in favour of commercializing sentimentality.  And don’t get me sidetracked with what you lot have done to St. Nic!  Valentine was a real person who was killed for his beliefs.”  Rose blinked.  “Get it?  Valentine is famous for _dying_.  If I ask you to be _my_ Valentine, am I not asking you to die for me?”

Rose stared at his earnest face trying to reconcile his perspective with her understanding.  “Yeah, okay I get what you’re saying.  But nobody thinks that way.”

He shoved his hands into his pockets, “Doesn’t make it less true.”

“Doctor,” she tugged on his wrists until his hands were free and she clasped them in her own.  “If it will make you feel better, I promise I will never ask you to be my Valentine, but,” she squeezed his hands, “I would gladly be yours.”

“Rose!”  He tugged his hands free in panic.  “Don’t say that!  Never say that!  I would never – I couldn’t – I can’t – “

She grabbed the lapels of his coat for fear that he was going to bolt.  “Stop it!”  She shook him slightly before dropping her voice to a hoarse whisper.  Her heart was lodged somewhere in her throat and it was hard to force out the words she was determined he hear.  “I’m serious.  I would do anything for you.” 

And wasn’t that the definition of love anyway?

The Doctor had a vision of Rose as Bad Wolf and shuddered.  He already knew how far she’d go and what it would cost them.  They had truly been each other’s Valentine that day.  _“My head, it’s killing me.... What you need is a doctor....”_   Somehow his hands were cradling her sweet face.  “In that case, I will always gladly be your Valentine too.”

The solemn look they exchanged on the sidewalk had very little to do with the day around them.

 

Jackie hummed as she clipped the photo from the Sunday’s _Sun_.  Under a window display banner that read “Happy Valentine’s Day” a clever passerby had snapped a picture of a tall thin man in a familiar long coat kissing an even more familiar young blonde.  “We’re not like that, mum,” she snickered.  “Right and I’m the bloody Queen of England!”


End file.
